


Flesh without Blood

by violentzsz



Series: Too Deep [2]
Category: Stardew Valley (Video Game)
Genre: Come Eating, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Explicit Sexual Content, Father-Son Relationship, Father/Son Incest, Implied/Referenced Cheating, Light Angst, M/M, Spit Kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-10
Updated: 2021-01-10
Packaged: 2021-03-14 06:36:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,758
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28666335
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/violentzsz/pseuds/violentzsz
Summary: He would let Sam tear him apart if he wanted to.
Relationships: Kent/Sam (Stardew Valley)
Series: Too Deep [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2100849
Comments: 2
Kudos: 26





	Flesh without Blood

**Author's Note:**

> takes place after “Tremors” but you don’t really need to read that one to get the story, so <3

Sam felt a lot of things, staring at his father across the dinner table: admiration, longing, love, and above all, at that moment, betrayal, anger, resentment, and lust. He’d been feeling that way for the entire month, ever since Kent stopped coming to him at night, and started pretending nothing had ever happened between them.

It pissed him off, but more than anything, it hurt; it hurt like hell. 

Part of him knew their nightly relations wouldn’t last, but there was a sick little part of him that thought maybe, just maybe, it would be different; that maybe they would live lives of pretending and hiding, but they’d live them together. After all, Kent had promised him— he fucking promised him that he’d never leave him again.

Maybe he was as stupid as everyone thought he was.

So he gave Kent hell. Talking back, disobeying, just having an all around horrible attitude, and then he stopped talking to him all together. That part seemed to hurt Kent the most, but he grit his teeth and bore it, silently eating his dinner as Sam stared him down every single night. He didn’t talk much at dinner anymore. Neither of them did.

Kent wasn’t cracking, but neither was Sam. It was only a matter of time until one of them gave in.

Jodi woke up early one Saturday morning and left a note on the kitchen table, telling them she was gone on a shopping trip with Caroline, and that she would be back much later that night. Vincent was at Marnie’s place; he was spending the night with Jas, the note said. It didn’t take a genius to understand that they were really getting out of the house so that the two men of the house could work out whatever it was that was going on between them.

So they were alone, standing at opposite sides of the kitchen, and Sam was about to let loose a torrent of complicated emotions when Kent brushed past him, straight to the door.

“Where are you going?” 

“On a walk.”

Kent left without another word, slamming the front door behind him. Sam was alone. 

His father was a goddamn liar.

The pain was deep and unbearable, an ache in his heart that permeated into his bones and joints and muscles. Everything hurt. His energy exhausted and his will finally broken, he went to his bedroom, slammed the door, and sat on the floor next to his bed, tears threatening to come but never coming. 

The overbearing sadness soon turned to rage, and he tore his pillows off his bed and threw them as hard as he could against the wall, curses and profanity flying from his lips as he slammed a pillow into the floor until the stuffing flew out, screaming and crying, crying, crying, sobs without tears wracking his body.

He calmed down, eventually. It was barely ten o’clock in the morning and he was exhausted, mentally and physically. 

He stripped off his shirt, soaked with sweat from his outburst, and lied on his pillowless bed, staring up at the ceiling. He wasn’t sure how long he stayed there, but the shadows of his room moved and pulsed with the changing sun. He was debating whether or not to take a nap when he heard the front door open.

Kent was home, he could tell from the heavy footfalls alone, the sound of his boots on the floor.

Sam pulled himself off the bed, already moving to pick up the pillows from the floor before he got fussed at for not keeping his room tidy. The least he could do was try to fix the father-son relationship between them, if whatever they had going on was really in the past. He just hated this silent treatment they were giving each other; he didn’t wait years to get his father back just to lose him again.

Those heavy footfalls approached his room, and with them came Kent’s voice, gentle but powerful as it always was, as the door creaked open.

“Hey, Sam… I’m sorry about earlier—“

Sam straightened to see his dad in the doorway, leaning heavily against the frame. Sam caught his eyes moving over his body, and his heart pounded against his rib cage. This wasn’t over.

Sam leaned his back against the wall, catching his father’s gaze. Kent’s face burned as he ripped his eyes away from Sam to inspect the wallpaper.

“Are you going to tell me what’s going on?” Sam asked, slipping his hands into his pockets. “Or are you coming to me to get fucked again?”

Kent choked, furrowing his brows. 

“Sam. We have to stop this. I’m stopping it. We can’t keep doing this. It should’ve never happened in the first place.”

“You could’ve… you could’ve at least talked to me, dad. Instead of ignoring me and pretending I don’t exist.”

“I’m sorry, Sam. I really am, but I have to stop this before it gets worse.”

“Oh? Is that why you're hard?”

Kent’s voice caught in his throat. Sam’s eyes were fixed on the growing bulge in Kent’s pants. It made his own cock throb in his jeans.

“Sam, please—“

“Your feelings obviously haven’t changed. So what happened?” 

“I thought— I thought if we stopped it would be better. I— I can’t even— I can’t even get hard when I try to have sex with Jodi. Nothing works. Nothing. I hate having sex with her now, I just— I keep thinking of you. About how much I’d rather be—“ He trailed off, face hot. 

“Sucking my cock?” The words were spat more than said, with an uneasy twinge of venom. Kent cringed. 

“Yeah.”

Sam’s cock twitched in his pants, seeing Kent like this: flustered, desperate, shame radiating from him.

“If you wanted to suck my cock, all you had to do was ask.”

He winced, his breath hitching.

“Sam, please. We can forget this—“ His voice caught in his throat. He didn’t want to forget this. He wanted to engrave this image into his brain; Sam, leaned against the wall, the curves of his body, the way his fingers trailed down his stomach and hooked into the hem of his pants, eyes never leaving Kent’s face.

Sam popped the button of his trousers in one fluid motion, and Kent was on his knees, choking on Sam’s cock and looking up at him with desperate, apologetic eyes.

Sam moaned, grabbed his hair, pulled his head farther forward so he could fuck his mouth, hard, drool pouring down his dad’s chin.

“I knew you wanted me,” he murmured, his head rolling back against the wall. “I knew you’d do anything for me.”

Sam fucked Kent’s mouth until he came, Kent on his knees and choking and gagging on his seed. He pulled out and pressed his fingers into Kent’s jaw, holding his mouth open. Kent tried to close his mouth again, but Sam’s grip only got harder.

“Open your slut mouth.”

Kent moaned, opened his mouth as he was told, letting Sam see the cum and saliva that pooled on his tongue.

Sam sighed, cradling Kent’s jaw in his hand, and spat filthily into his open mouth. Kent flinched, gagged, but didn’t spit it out, didn’t swallow. He just looked up at his son with watery eyes and cum and spit dripping down his chin. Sam’s hand fell from his jaw to grip his neck.

“Swallow.”

Kent made a strained, gargled noise and swallowed, and opened his mouth to let Sam see that he swallowed it all. Thick strings of spit and cum dripped off of his chin, some still attached to Sam’s cock.

Sam stepped on the bulge in his father’s pants, pressing down with his heel and shivering at the choked-up groan he got in reply.

In a way, he felt like he was getting back at his father, for leaving him, for leaving their family, for making him lie awake at night and wonder if he’d ever get to hold him again, for coming to him for comfort every night and then cutting ties like it was nothing, pretending they were nothing, that they were normal.

He was here, now, under his foot, whining and rutting his hips, nuzzling his face into his pubes, and Sam felt like he was in control for once.

“Ya gonna cum in your pants like a fucking teenager?”

All the shame that had been on Kent’s face was amplified by unabashed desperation. 

Sam ran his fingers through the mixture of saliva and cum on Kent’s face, across Kent’s lips, slowly slipping them inside his mouth, fucking his mouth softly with his fingers. He watched Kent’s eyes flutter, watched him make a poor attempt to hide it.

“You’re such a slut. You like this too much. Huh? You want them deeper?”

Kent looked at him pitifully and choked when Sam pushed his fingers deeper into his mouth, fucking it rougher; Kent accidentally let a moan slip out.

If he had been hesitant before, any trace of it was gone with his dignity, because Sam had hardly let go of his hair before he was face down on the floor with his ass up, waiting, wanting, begging to be fucked as Sam jerked his pants and underwear down to his knees.

Kent was always so goddamn beautiful when he fucked him, mouth open whorishly, lifting his hips up with strong legs to meet every brutal thrust. 

“Tell me you love me.” Sam didn’t notice his lips moving until the words were out, punctuated with the snap of his hips.

“I love you,” came the moaned reply, breathless and raspy and grotesquely genuine. “I love you, I love you—“

He trailed off into babbling moans and cries, and when the tears started coming Sam only fucked him harder, Kent grabbing at the floor, the pillows strewn around, what little clothes they still had on. In the end, he buried his face in his arms, just letting Sam fuck him like a cheap whore, drunk on ecstasy and drooling.

Kent bit down on the fabric of his jacket sleeve to muffle his cries as his body quaked with his orgasm, wetness splattering against his thighs and stomach. Sam grabbed him by the hair and jerked his head back, ripping Kent’s mouth free so he could hear him, still pounding him relentlessly, Kent’s tears mixing with his drool. 

His body trembled with overstimulation, but it felt so good. He would let Sam tear him apart if he wanted to.

“More— Please, more—“ The words were fucked out of him, slurred and thick with lust. “I love you— I love you—!”

Sam slumped over Kent’s body, wrapping his arms around his waist and hugging him close, and with a few more desperate, sloppy thrusts, he came. He felt Kent’s moan reverberate through his body like a purr, strangely comforting, as he coated his father’s insides.

“I love you,” he said, breathlessly pressing kisses against Kent’s back. “I love you, dad.”

They stayed there, collapsed on the floor, matching their breathing, Sam’s cock flaccid inside his father. Eventually, after a few more loving kisses, Sam peeled himself away and slowly pulled out of his father, the head of his cock popping out, and with it came a thick dribble of his own semen, mixed with lube. He smirked, a breathless laugh in his throat as he grabbed a handful of Kent’s ass and squeezed affectionately.

“You okay?”

“Yeah. I… I feel good. I feel great.” Kent laughed, stretching. His back popped with a gross crunch that made Sam wince, but Kent moaned in appreciation. “I’m not as young as I used to be. I still like it rough, though.”

Sam’s eyes were wondering, and he reached out to part Kent’s legs. The sight of his cum dripping out of his own father’s abused hole, stretched loose and flushed a deep pink, made something in him ache.

“Can I… can I, uh… fuck…”

Sam bent to drag his tongue along Kent’s thigh, catching the smear of cum on his tongue, and moving to the other thigh to do the same, before running his tongue along Kent’s thoroughly fucked hole and pushing it inside.

A vulgar moan tore its way from Kent’s throat, punctuated by an involuntary thrust of his hips.

“You’re so gross,” he mumbled, but he rocked his hips against Sam’s tongue anyway. 

Sam took his time, lapping up every drop of cum, and even when it was gone he still kept at it, licking and fucking languidly, savoring it all. Kent was worked up again, his erection strained against his stomach.

“Touch yourself for me,” Sam mumbled, biting at Kent’s thigh, then his tongue was in him again, deeper this time, and rougher.

Kent didn’t need to be told twice; he jerked himself off, fucking himself on Sam’s tongue until he came again, eyes rolling in his skull.

He rolled over when Sam was through, gazing up at his son through strands of sweaty hair, and saw that Sam was touching himself, hard and needy once again.

He smirked, pushed his hand away, and took him down his throat easily.

They just kept going at it, coming over and over and over again. They hadn’t tasted each other in what seemed like ages, and by the time they were too fucked out to continue, the sun had set and the stars were out, and they were sprawled on the floor, shivering in their afterglows.

Sam sat up, not without difficulty, and pushed his hair out of his face.

Kent looked up at him, and it felt like looking in a mirror, those dark eyes— they had the same fucking eyes— staring him down; it was the same look Sam had seen in the bathroom mirror ever since they started this little game of cat and mouse, and every cell in his body screamed that he should be disgusted and ashamed, but he wasn’t. He couldn’t be, because Kent was everything he’d ever wanted, and he knew he couldn’t live without him now, not when he knew how good this felt; they’d dug themselves too deep. Instead, he leaned against the wall and pulled Kent’s head into his lap with a satisfied laugh.

It hit him how fucked they really were, how fucked the whole situation was. He wanted to scream, to kick and scream and slam his head into the wall until everything was numb, because there were too many emotions in his heart at that moment, and all of them were overflowing with love, love, love. This was happiness, love, comfort, he thought. It was hell.

Kent lifted his hand, took Sam’s wrist, and moved it to his face, where he held his palm to his cheek, sticky with cum and spit. He looked so content, as content as he’d ever seen him since he’d come home. All the doubt left in Sam melted away at the gentleness of the touch, and he slumped completely against the wall, wanting to say so much, but not having the energy to. He settled on stroking Kent’s hair, detailing every inch of his face, what features they shared, which ones they didn’t. Kent had beautiful lips, he thought. Lips that begged to be kissed. Lips that were moving… 

“I love you,” came the soft words, spoken absentmindedly. Sam choked out a laugh.

“God, I love you. I love you so much.”

It was quiet. They sat in a comfortable silence, each lost in their own thoughts, picking at uncomfortable questions like oozing scabs.

“What do we do now?” Kent broke the silence, but didn’t move from his spot, didn’t take his head off of Sam’s lap.

Sam thought about it. It was such an open-ended question, but what was there to do, really? What could they do besides keep doing what they were already doing? Both of them knew they couldn’t stop. He took a shaky breath.

“Well, I think we should take a shower.”

Kent snorted, and it made Sam giggle, and then the two of them were tangled together on the floor in a mess of giggles and gentle kisses and whispered confessions of love.

“Maybe we could take a vacation sometime? Just the two of us?” Sam said, playing with strands of Kent’s sweaty hair at the base of his neck.

Kent closed his eyes with a smile, relaxing into Sam’s soft touches, and seemed to think on it.

The sound of the front door opening echoed through the open bedroom door.

**Author's Note:**

> I’m in Kent/Sam hell, have a good day ily all xoxo <3


End file.
